


I Love You for Psychological Reasons.

by hotpantsonly



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confessions, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Angst at times, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Rare Pairings, Slow Burn, bulma and vegeta friendships, like really rare, my first ever fanfic pls be nice to me i dont know what im doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15631158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotpantsonly/pseuds/hotpantsonly
Summary: Earth is a planet where things go wrong.-Vegeta has no experience and Krillin has better options. And yet here they are.





	1. Impossibly New.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The author of this fanfiction does not endorse revealing your darkest secrets to Bulma Briefs.

Bulma wasn't one hundred percent sure what had been happening before she came into the room, but she was well aware that many aspects of Vegeta's life were equal parts mysterious and extremely boring. It sort of seemed like hed just been sitting on the couch. Doing nothing. Which was weird. He also hadnt known she was there until she opened the door. Which was also weird. He'd snapped back to consciousness briefly when she said she was going to the kitchen, just long enough to call after her to bring him a drink. On her reentry she tossed him one of those nasty purple sports drinks, because that seemed like something he'd like, whatever. It hit him in the head. Also weird.

  
"What the hell is happening with _you_." She snorted into a light beer. Yes, an 11am light beer. you can judge when you run the biggest company on the planet

  
" _Nothing_." he snapped, a fraction of a second too fast.  
Yes. An opening.

  
"Doesnt _sound_ like nothing. What did you do."

  
"I didn't _DO_ anything." he furrowed his brow. Really, it was too easy.

  
"Last time I checked that's what people who do things say." She took a swig and picked a piece of wire sheathing out of her hair. "What happened. Who did you piss off. Who's on their way to kick your ass this time."

  
" _NO ONE_ is going to kick my ass, i just-" he trailed off, crossing his arms, furrowing his brow even harder and looking back to the spot on the wall paneling that had been so interesting earlier.

  
She could smell the emotional turmoil the way wolves smell weakness in caribou.

  
"Awww baby what are you so worried about," she stood up from the counter and leaned over the back of the couch, making sure he could see the thoroughly mocking expression on her face for best effect. "Lose your favorite pair of tights or something?"

  
It probably should have been concerning how much this was affecting him, considering the sleep deprivation had taken her off her game, but Bulma Briefs had not made a name for herself by knowing when to quit, and Vegeta was the only one to be blamed, really, if he'd lived in such close proximity to her this long without building a better defense to her cutting mental attacks.

  
Vegeta was ready to burst already. She leaned further and gave him the best piercing stare she could manage on 3 hours of sleep.  
He slammed his hands on the couch.

  
" _GOD DAMN IT_ , WHAT'S _WRONG_ WITH ME."

  
Hm. This seemed to be heading in a different direction than she had anticipated.  
"HOW COULD I LET SOMETHING THIS TRIVIAL SCREW ME OVER THIS BAD? WHATS WRONG WITH ME? AM I- AM I GOING SOFT NOW?"  
There was a degree of tremble in his voice that bulma wasnt expecting. things were veering dangerously towards vent sesh rather than ruthless bullying sesh.  
" _Christ_ , i didnt think i could lower myself further," he leaned his head back against the couch and turned his glare toward the ceiling, like he was accusing the earth itself. "This planet cant leave me _shit_ can it?"

  
At this point bulma was stuck. Part of her brain considered just quietly sneaking out the door in the hopes he'd go back to whatever trance he was in before so she could get back to work, but that didn't seem like much of an option. Another part of her brain reminded her that she was the only real friend vegeta had or, to her knowledge, had had and she was worried that if no one tried to help him out his stupid, emotionally inept ass would be stuck on that couch forever.  
_Bite the bullet you gorgeous bitch. Do it so one day he'll be able to move out and you can stop hiding all the good chips._  
Bulma grabbed her beer and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

  
"Talk to me."

  
Vegeta look terrified for a second but before he could try to worm his way out of her gracious gift of friendship and understanding she took a another slug of beer and pointed at him. "Talk to me or i stop fixing the gravity chamber."  
He swallowed visibly.

  
Vegeta turned his eyes to his lap.

  
His expression was grave.

  
His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  
"I think i'm in love."

  
Bulma snorted into her beer. His eyes snapped to her.  
" _SORRY_ , sorry," she wiped her face with the back of a hand "go on."  
Vegeta crossed his arms and hmphed at her indignantly.  
" _SERIOUSLY,_ I'll be serious. No judgement. Talk to me."  
"I just. _That's it!_ What else do you want me to say? How else can i _embarrass myself?_ "  
"Have you ever been in love before?"

  
He looked at his lap again.

  
"No."

  
Bulma narrowed her eyes at him. "Who is it. Do i know them."

  
"I'M NOT _TELLING_ YOU!"

  
"OK! Ok _fine_! I'll guess."

  
" _DON'T_!"

  
"Well _shit, fine_. What do you like about them."

  
"I dont- I dont know. I _shouldnt_. It's just... I didnt think I'd ever fall in love with someone so _unworthy_ ," BUlma rolled her eyes "It's..." he got quiet again. "He's just. _Sweet_."

  
" _Oh shit, he?_ " Vegeta locked eyes with her again "I mean. _I_ dont have any problem with it. Tell me about him."

  
"He's so _stupid_. He's _stupid_ and _gentle_ and _weak_ and I _HATE_ him. And I cannot fucking _believe_ i could let him do this to me. Every second I'm around him I can _FEEL_ it rubbing off on me, He's turning me into _MUSH_ , He's so-" Vegeta realized he was clenching his fists and slowly released them, studying the contours on the back of his hand, the spaces between his fingers. "He's such a human."

  
_Oh,_ thought Bulma, _No, that makes sense. Who else was it going to be, Yamcha? No, this makes everything make a lot more sense._

  
She laid a comforting, if not exactly welcomed hand on his shoulder.  
"Look," she said, in her best attempt at a reassuring voice "you can't control who you care about. _Believe me_ , if i could do that you wouldn't even be in my house right now." She leaned back and took a sip, looking wistful. "Sometimes you just... hit a toddler with a car and end up spending the rest of your life chasing after him making sure he doesn't die." she patted his shoulder again.  
"Things'll turn out sweetie. There's only two ways these things go, you either get over 'em or y'know, he gets a divorce, which he _really_ should've a long time ago because _honestly_? His wife could do a _lot better_ and like-"

  
"What? _Wife_?"

  
_Mystery de-solved. Never mind_.

  
"Nothin'."

  
She settled into the deep cushions, drumming her fingers on the aluminum can in her hands.

  
“I’m proud of you.”

Vegeta looked confused and a little insulted. “For telling me. Shit like this isnt easy to talk about for anyone. I mean, _I_ certainly wouldn't have told me.” She considered it for a moment, then heaved herself out of the cushions. “Honestly you probably shouldn’t have, there's no way I'm letting you live this down. But I'm proud of you for talking about what you're feeling instead of running off somewhere to, like, I dont know, punch rocks or whatever you do all day. Good job.” She ruffled his hair, he didn't protest. “I gotta get back to work. Don't break anything while I'm gone.”

She had her hand on the doorknob when she heard, barely audible,

“Thank you.”

  
Bulma smiled and pulled the door shut behind her.

  
-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter of the first fanfic i've ever written! i hope you enjoyed it, just not enough to be too upset if i never post another chapter. I'm not much of a writer.


	2. Answer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta's defining characteristics are his big forehead, bad attitude, and inability to shut up about anything, ever.

The Capsule Corp. compound was a massive, ungainly piece of architecture. It was easy to get lost in, with its maze-like arrangement of rooms and oddly shaped hallways, owed to the fact that sections of it were remodeled, reshaped, annexed, and removed at a faster pace than probably any other building on earth. such is the life of a combination laboratory/mansion/petting zoo. It was for this reason that the next time Bulma saw Vegeta was about two days later, when she walked into one of the side kitchens to find him shirtless, eating some kind of ugly sandwich and dripping all over the scrubbed tiles.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Vegeta you're _bleeding!_ "

He seemed aware but unbothered.

"VEGETA. _THATS NOT SANITARY_."

-

It took some wrangling but Bulma finally got him to stay put while she grabbed a first aid kit. She had him sit on a stool at the counter with whatever the garbage he was eating was and did her best to hold his head still so she could clean the gash in his forehead. He flinched away.

"Fucking relax."

"I am relaxed. You're the one who started screaming." She huffed at him.

"What did you do?"

"I was training. It got intense. It's not a big deal."

"Uh huh. Get too excited about your little crush again and let one of the training bots hit you?" Vegeta froze.

"OH NO _SHIT_ ," she tossed down the bloody wash cloth and threw her arms in the air. "BULMA BRIEFS IS RIGHT AGAIN!"

"OH SHUT UP," he protested "I DID NOT _'LET IT HIT ME'_. I... I slipped." Bulma cackled. For someone who had praised him for his honesty not too long ago this was not a good look. Vegeta's face spelt betrayal.

" _Wow_ , you _really_ are a mess over this boy. He must be _something_ to look at then" Bulma started in on the bandages but Vegeta pulled away.

"I'm not giving you any _hints_."

"Still trying to keep him a secret, huh? Oh, not for long. _Nothing_ stays secret around here, not while _I'm_ around." Vegeta let her apply gauze, though begrudgingly. He took a bite of his sandwich.

"So he's cute. And he's someone we know. I mean, its not like you get out much. That narrows it down." She thought for a second. " _Is_ it Yamcha?"

" _Gross_."

"Hey. I'll have you know Yamcha is a _babe_. Even if he is a complete dork in basically every other aspect. And he can't maintain a relationship for shit. And all his clothes have cat hair on them. _Damn_ it i can't believe i dated him." She finished with the bandages. Not exactly pretty, but you can't expect someone with about every doctorate but medical to be much of a nurse.

"So. What's the plan."

"Plan?"

"Yeah, plan. You're into him, you gonna do something about it?" Vegeta froze up again. Of course he hadn't thought that far ahead. Bulma was expecting him to be date-ready when, emotionally speaking, he was barely out of the stone age. "Alright, we can work on that. We know he's not married, apparently. Is he single?" Again, that deer in the headlights stare. Vegeta wasn't exactly known for caring about other people's lives. "You know, you're really not making this easy for me." Vegeta slapped his hand on the counter.

"This is hard for _YOU_? Imagine how _I_ feel when the first person I've _ever felt this way about_ watched me _TRY TO KILL HIS FRIENDS_. Not really a _fun start_ for either of us, _Bulma_! And even if he _manages to forgive me_ for _THAT_ it's not like I know what to do _next_! I don't have any _experience!_ I don't know how to _talk about these things!_ And i'll NEVER EVEN HAVE TO _THINK_ ABOUT THAT BECAUSE NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD _PURPOSEFULLY SPEND TIME_ AROUND THEIR _ENEMY!_ KRILLIN _HATES_ ME AND IF I WAS SMART ENOUGH I ALREADY WOULD HAVE DESTROYED--"

The words Vegeta had spoken really took their time traveling to his brain. Bulma's eyes went wide.

And then she started laughing. Just really letting loose, in front of Vegeta's facial expression of upside-down-cake-on-sidewalk. She tried to choke it down but there was no stopping the guffaws coming from her mouth. Vegeta started to get up.

"I've had enough of this." Bulma held his shoulder, still doubling over.

" _NO,_ NO wait! H-he-he's just not," she snorted "exactly a _model_ is he?"

"I never said he _was_ , also, _fuck you_."

"NOOO I'm sorry, that's _adorable_! Oh my god, he is a sweetheart isn't he?"

"I'm never talking to you about this again." Bulma wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'M DONE! I won't laugh anymore, I'm done. _Adorable_. Thank you for telling me, Vegeta."

"I didn't want to tell you."

"Ugh, whatever! _Fine_. You can stop talking to me but only after one thing."

" _What_."

"Tell me what made you realize."

Vegeta pouted and fidgeted with a little cotton ball. Bulma let him think about it while she headed for the coffee machine.

Under the clink of ceramic on countertop she heard him.

"Alright."

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She really does like Yamcha, honest. Things start getting cuter, very soon.  
> Hope you're ready for a POV change.


	3. Glean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to have a nice night out when you're an asshole.  
> Earth's finest visit some kind of knock off Dave & Busters.

For obvious reasons, apocalyptically powerful alien warriors generally do not mix well with highly sensitive - and expensive - scientific experiments. It was for this reason that a few months prior Bulma had decided that Vegeta needed to leave.

Just for a few hours. One unpleasant sounding phone call by Bulma, and Vegeta had evening plans. Yamcha would be by to pick him up and, along with Krillin as a reluctant guest (and, as Vegeta later came to realize, plenty of money changing hands,) the three of them would head out for a night on the town. Except what that really meant was Yamcha would take Krillin to a bar and let Vegeta third wheel for a couple hours while the two chatted up. Whatever. Bulma thought he could use any time outside he got and it wasn't like Vegeta was aching to gab along with them anyways.

Bulma quickly learned what a valuable resource No Vegeta Time was, and so these nights became an almost regular occurrence. She was the only one who really enjoyed them of course. Yamcha could have dragged Krillin along to a bar at any time, happily, without the 5'3 angel of death glowering at the other patrons the whole night, and Vegeta did not much care for Krillin's invitations to conversation. He was just being polite of course. Unlike Yamcha, who tried to avoid looking at him directly as much as possible.

And then came a night when Yamcha was unavailable. Or he'd finally gotten sick enough of their play dates that the checks weren't doing it for him anymore. Ever the understudy, Krillin stepped in at the last minute and offered to be Vegeta's supervisor for the night.

Great.

As truly mind numbing as third wheeling was, it was a whole lot worse to become the center of attention in a place you hate, with someone who didn't really like you but was too polite to let you bother someone else. The night dragged painfully

The walk to the bar was quiet, broken only by Krillin's attempts at smalltalk.

"Pretty nice out."  
 _Mmhm_.  
"There's a great diner over there."  
 _Alright_.  
"Just a couple more blocks."  
 _Kill me_.

As it turned out, the bar wasn't a bar so much as a hideous neon-lit Frankenstein of bar, arcade, and kid friendly dining establishment. It stood to reason that if Vegeta was going to be punished tonight, his jailor might as well go all out.

Krillin asked him a few questions about where he wanted to sit and what he was getting and if he wanted to get something to eat, but for the most part it was silent. horribly silent.

"Uh..." Krillin started, in a tone of voice that sounded an awful lot like he was going to make a suggestion. "Want to check out that arcade?"

Vegeta grunted and shoved a fried piece of something in his mouth. Krillin sat still, not being fluent in that particular mode of communication, until Vegeta finished the last piece and stood up from the bar. He scrambled to leave a tip and hopped after him.

Vegeta hung back a little to let Krillin lead the way to whatever it was they were expected to do in an arcade. Thankfully, he took the hint. Vegeta saw his eyes light up when they settled on some old machine off in the corner.

"Hey, Vegeta, you uh, you know anything about pinball?" He looked genuinely enthusiastic. Gross. Vegeta grunted at him again, which Krillin took as a no. He was a fast learner. They headed for the machine. He fed a few coins into the slot and immediately leapt into an explanation of the rules, not that Vegeta had asked.

"They're not exactly popular anymore but when i was a kid they were everywhere. I mean, I never really got to play them while I was a _kid_ kid since I sorta lived in a temple for a long time. But when I was like 15? Couldn't get enough of 'em. I'm surprised they had one here, actually. One of the owners must be a fan or something."

Vegeta had no frame of reference to tell if he was getting a high score or whatever but the ball kept bouncing, and the numbers kept going up. He looked happy. At least they weren't wading in that awkward silence anymore. Krillin kept talking and Vegeta, well, Vegeta wasn't really listening that closely to begin with but he kept watching how intent he was on that ball. Every once in a while something would light up or a sound would play and Krillin would smile and Vegeta would find himself relaxing a little. It was easy to relax when he smiled. He realized it had been the same before, when Yamcha was there, he just hadn't let himself. Not around that jackass.

" _Oh my god is that skee-ball_." Vegeta snapped out of it. Evidently Krillin had spent as much Zeni on that particular machine as he'd planned to because in a moment he was at the other end of the arcade and Vegeta found himself trailing after.

They bounced between machines and it seemed like Krillin had a story for every one, and when he didn't have a story for one he had a story of some other machine in some other arcade, some other time. He'd feed the machine, and play a few rounds, and talk, and smile, and Vegeta felt like maybe he could stand there forever without a single complaint. Maybe _no_ complaints was pushing it, but he felt good. He felt better than he had in a long time. Maybe ever?

The game over screen flashed on the particular cabinet they were standing at and Krillin was getting ready to move to the next one over when something caught his eye at the far side of the room. His eyes gleamed.

" _Wow_ , I haven't seen one of those in _forever!_ " Before he knew what was happening Vegeta felt Krillin's hand on his and suddenly he was being lead through a glowing void. He couldn't think. The only thing in that room was him and Krillin's warm hand hanging onto his and his legs moving on their own and _his hand was so warm_. Wow. It was so warm and little and had anyone _ever_ held his hand like that before? Vegeta didn't know because that part of his brain had gone wherever everything else that wasn't the two of them was. _Wow_.

And then Krillin slipped his hand out of Vegeta's again and the world came back. He realized his face was warm. Worryingly warm. It didn't seem that Krillin had noticed because he was already talking and smiling that smile again. Still, the moment was over and it wasn't long before Krillin was out of change. They were out a bit late as it was by now, so it was time to pack it in.

The walk back was quiet, but not in the same way as before. It wasn't tense. When they reached the compound gates Krillin said goodnight and gave him that smile again. That sweet, stupid smile. Vegeta smiled back. Well, not a smile so much as a general relaxing of face muscles, but that was what he had to offer. In a daze he watched Krillin walk off into the night, unlocked the front gate, entered his code to the front door, and went straight to bed.

-

Vegeta did not sleep well that night. The glow faded fast as soon as Krillin was out of sight and all he could think was how weak he was. Weak for being so affected by something like that, weak for letting his guard down over a smile, and weak for feeling these things about someone so... weak. It wasn't as if Krillin could ever love him back anyways. Not after the things he'd done. All he had been doing that night was keeping a monster pacified. None of it _meant_ anything. Maybe _Kakarot_ could forgive enough of the death and destruction to call him a friend but _he_ was blessed with the memory of a goldfish and the heart of a golden retriever. Krillin was too smart for that. Too smart and too loyal to just pretend none of it ever happened. Vegeta was going to be haunted by red and violet stains til the day he died and he was an _idiot_ for forgetting it for even a second.

All he could do was curl up in the sheets and wait for sleep to wash the thoughts from his mind.

-

Hundreds of miles away, on a little island in a wide sea, sleep was nowhere to be found either.

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He'll be fine.   
> Next time we pay Kame house a visit.


	4. Circle/Step.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, they got off to a rough start.
> 
> There's not much else to say there, honestly. It was a pretty rough start.

Krillin tried to ground himself. He focused on the never-ending crashing of the waves just outside, rhythmic like breathing. He focused on the life beneath the waves, their constant comfortable presence. He focused on the chores he had waiting for him in the morning. Nothing came of it.

Another night without sleep.

The evening kept playing over and over in his head agonizingly, no matter how many times he pushed the thoughts away. The worst moments crawled across his brain like insects.

He shouldn't have gone. He should've kept his mouth shut and let Bulma find someone else. It was so much easier when Yamcha was with them, he could just throw himself into the conversation and pretend _He_ wasn't there watching him. It had all been so awkward. First the awful smalltalk. Then the awful bar. Then the embarrassing stories. The look on _His_ face had quickly gone from the usual 'General Irritation' to 'Eye-Glazing Boredom' while Krillin prattled on about, what? Fucking _pinball_? He couldn't even _begin_ to list everything that went wrong when he'd gotten excited and grabbed his--

 _No. Not_ going back to that part.

 _Maybe this is what you deserve_ , said some voice in the back of his head, _Maybe this is just what happens when you start thirsting after some_ monster _from another planet._

 _Shut up_ , said Krillin.

And so went the night. The closest thing to sleep Krillin was getting was when he'd snap to consciousness suddenly and realize he'd drifted off for a few minutes. All the memories would play over, then he'd suddenly feel himself wake up and it would start again. Over and over. While the waves continued to crash, and all the living things continued living, and Krillin continued to be miserable.

By 4am he couldnt take it anymore. He pulled on a sweater and crept down the hall to make himself some coffee. He moved slowly, partially to avoid waking Roshi or Puar or Turtle (not Yamcha, who _knew_ where Yamcha was), and partially to make sure he could keep moving for as long as possible. When he sat down he would start thinking again. Start thinking all about how he got to this point. Start thinking all about the first time he'd met _Him_ and how terrified he'd been and how he'd ended up half a second away from _plunging a sword into his chest, what happened to THAT attitude, Krillin!_

The whole thing defied reason. It had started out so _innocent_. He could admit it to himself when he found someone attractive, even if they were a piece of shit. There were plenty of those in the world. But there is a big difference between accepting that someone who's been a dick to you has a nice ass, and not being able to sleep because you can't seem stop thinking about a _certain_ homicidal alien prince. _Asshole_.

Krillin washed out his mug and headed for a shower. He kept it cold. He didn't want to waste the hot water. Seriously, why couldn't he get that through his skull? He was evil. He'd come here to kill Krillin's friends. He'd _succeeded_ in a few cases, and, as far as Krillin, knew he still had it out for Goku. And now here he would find his mind wandering on a daily basis to his sharp jaw and his--

_Oh for fucks sake. Am I into assholes? Is that it?_

_That's not going to turn out well for you, Krillin._

_Yeah, no shit._

It was now nearly 6am. He found the basket of clean laundry where Puar was sleeping, gently, without waking them, scooped them up, and laid them down to sleep on the couch cushions so he could start folding. What was he supposed to do? Krillin couldn't survive on three hours of not-sleep forever. Oh god. So this was going to be how he did Krillin in. Haunt him with his perfect biceps until he dropped dead of exhaustion. What a way to go.

Yamcha's energy made itself known and a little later a Capsule plane landed on the beach outside. The screen door creaked slowly open.

"Uh, hey dude. What're you doing up?"

"Nothing." Replied Krillin. "Where've you been the last few days?"

"Out." Answered Yamcha.

He tossed his duffle bag onto the floor of his little room, then carefully settled into the couch alongside the sleeping Puar.

"You went out with Vegeta last night, right?" Krillin cringed at the name.

"Yeah."

"...How was that?"

"Fine."

"Cool."

He considered the floorboards.

"Get anything to eat on your way back?"

"No."

"I'll make breakfast."

-

Yamcha dug into a piece of fish while Krillin kept nibbling at his scorched toast. His stomach was in knots still. Yamcha had turned the TV on, keeping the volume on only barely, but it didn't hold his interest. He stared through the floorboards, eyebrows pushed together.

"Why do you think Bulma let him move in with her?"

The broken silence caught Yamcha off guard.

"Well," he started, thoughtfully "I mean, it's _Bulma_. She isn't exactly scared of anything. It probably wouldn't have been a great idea back then if we'd let him run off unsupervised either." Then he added "Maybe she thought he'd make a neat pet."

"Mm."

He took another bite. "He's not the same as he was the first time either is he?"

Krillin blinked at him.

"Like, back during the whole Namek thing, he helped you guys out right? That's not _not_ altruistic. The first time he showed up he _vaporized_ his buddy for pissing him off. So, like, that's _something_. He's still a massive dick, _obviously_ , but it's something."

Krillin propped his head up with an elbow.

"Yeah... Yeah. You're right."

Yamcha considered inquiring on this, but thought better of it.

Krillin stood up and started clearing the table. Yamcha let him take care of the dishes while he curled up on the couch again with Puar.

He was different. That didn't exactly fix the situation, or last night's events, but it was something.

It _was_ something.

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krillin's self doubt is the easiest character for me to write.  
> I feel like it comes naturally.


	5. Definition of good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they called him the demon king.
> 
> Someone needs a change of perspective.

"So... _why_ do you think he hates you?"

Vegeta heaved a dramatic sigh. "Because why wouldn't he! All i've done since I came to this god awful planet has been _antagonize him and his little friends!_ He should hate me! _I_ should hate _him!"_ He shoved the last bite of chicken into his mouth. "You're staring at it again."

"I can't help it, Vegeta, it's _disgusting_. You could've left the bandage on another few days at least, y'know."

He grunted at her.

"Fine. Don't come crying to me when that shit gets infected." Bulma tore her eyes away from his head wound to check the clock. "Shit. It's almost 2, I gotta go. You," she flapped a hand in his direction, "take care of... that. I guess. Clean up when you're done."

"Whatever."

Bulma waved at him again and disappeared out the kitchen doors. Vegeta rolled his eyes in her direction and got up to dig through the takeout in the fridge. He found a box of some kind of noodle dish and started eating, shuffling back to the table. Really. He had to hate him. Krillin may have been just another earthling in most respects, but there was no way he was as ridiculously lenient as the others. He couldn't be. He couldn't because if he was that would mean he really was just another one of these awful humans and he couldn't be because Vegeta wasn't sure he could take it if he was. Getting attached to someone who'd wanted him dead none too long ago was already a mistake. And then he lived on a planet that it had been Vegeta’s job to conquer. And then he'd been friends with a traitor. And then he'd--

Vegeta's foot hit the corner of the kitchen islet. He caught himself before he spilled anything, but only barely, and he swore loudly at the floor. The whole planet was out to get him.

-

Vegeta was sure he wasn't lost. He'd taken plenty of blows in recent memory but if there was one thing he would not let get the better of him it was shoddy house planning. How could a building with so many different, mismatched rooms manage to have such identical hallways? _This_ had to be the turn to get to the gravity chamber, right?

No, as it turned out.

He found himself at one end of another of those odd, curving halls, unfortunate and unsettling byproducts of the compound's hemispherical design. Probably. If he _was_ near the outer wall.

Vegeta was considering just blasting through the cement till he reached grass when a familiar smell reached him. Familiar, but unplaceable. And troubling. He sniffed the air and focused, feeling for an unexpected presence. There was Bulma, some ways off. Her parents. Some other minor human energies that must have been staff, and one slightly larger one that he'd learned belonged to something called a _T-rex_ , though Bulma called it _Daisy_. Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe that was worse. Anyhow, he knew the T-rex was kept in the atrium, so he'd at least gotten his bearings. If he was anywhere near where he thought he was, Bulma's main lab should have been close.

The further he followed the hallway the stronger the scent grew. Vegeta could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Bulma was getting closer. Probably standing defenseless, face to face with whatever danger had entered her home, as she was wont to do.

A husky voice echoed.

"You're sure you aren't too busy? She said it wasn't urgent."

"Relax, I've got nothing planned today. Besides, for Chichi? _Anything_."

Vegeta rounded a sharp corner and found himself in the waiting room outside the lab's oversized doors. There was Bulma, and there, towering over her, was that Namek. No wonder. Piccolo grimaced and tried not to look in his direction when Bulma greeted him. Good.

"What is it, a CP8? Yeah, I can fix that in no time."

Piccolo fished a flat little device out of a pocket. A spiderweb crack covered the front screen, and it looked to be missing a section of the outer casing. Bulma took it, turning it over a couple times in her hands. She gestured toward a couple of armchairs and a coffee table in front of the lab doors. Two cups already sat on the polished wood.

"Sit down, I'll have it right out."

"Paozu's not that far, you can call me when you're finished."

"Don't worry about it, finish your tea! I'll have it right out, you'll see."

She patted his huge green arm. He looked pained. Bulma gave Vegeta an impish smile and slipped through the heavy doors. Piccolo spared him a glance, then moved reluctantly to an armchair. Vegeta realized he could feel his presence now.

"Were you _hiding from me?"_

Piccolo frowned at his drink.

" _Why_."

"Because of this."

"You're running errands for humans now? I thought you were a _warrior_."

"I'm not 'running errands for humans.' I'm doing a favor for someone I care about. Like an adult."

"Didn't they used to be afraid of you? You could have _had_ this disgusting planet but then you let him _beat you once_ and _gave up_ \--"

"I did _not give up because_ \--" Piccolo took a deep breath. He straightened up a bit, then said in even tones "I think it would better for both of us if you calmed down."

" _I don't WANT to calm down!"_

Piccolo was taken slightly aback. He placed his cup back on the table with care, then looked Vegeta straight in the eyes, speaking measuredly.

"Do you have something you're trying to say, or did you just think I'd give in and fight you if you screamed at me long enough?"

Vegeta wasn't sure. He'd just been letting it pour out of him, but now he was thinking hard. He thought about what Bulma had told him about about the Namek, and the first time he'd met him, and the _terrifying_ look that had come into his eyes when a child that wasn't even his _species_ had been threatened. And then he thought of Bulma's awful, smug face peering over a beer can at him.

"I want to know what happened to you."

Piccolo was not expecting an actual response. He gaped for a second, then, gradually, a rueful smirk appeared on his face.

"If you want the real answer, it was _you_."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your friend threatening to flatten half the Earth, then leaving me in the middle of a field with a fatherless four year old, two dead Saiyans, and two more on the way." He made an amused sound in the back of his throat. "If it wasn't for that, I probably _would_ be in charge by now."

He looked up at Vegeta, who was still stood awkwardly on the other side of the room, then back to the lab doors.

"You should sit down. I think she's going to be a while."

-

"I didn't _give up_ on anything. I want to get that straight. It was a change in priority, and not one that I had any intention of keeping permanently. One thing lead to another and I..."

"What?"

Matter-of-factly he said, "I fell in love."

"What? With who? You're... a _slug_ , you shouldn't even have a concept of love."

"Not that kind. Not... _then_ anyway. For a long time I didn't feel anything and then one day there was someone more important than I was. I didn't like that at first, but he was more important to me than my pride was, and if he was important so were the people that were important to him."

While Piccolo sipped his lukewarm tea Vegeta stared up at the ceiling, and through it.

"You never felt," He thought for a moment. Too many words came to mind. " _defenseless_ after just forgiving them all like that?"

"Of course I did. I was _literally_ born thinking I had the right to take everything they had from them, and then suddenly I couldn't bear to let any of them suffer. I felt like I was _nothing_."

"How is someone supposed to survive that?"

"Having a new purpose helped. And after a while I realized if I stopped thinking of what I loved like it was worthless, it felt like what I was doing something that mattered, and then I mattered. It made sense." He settled back into the cushions, closing his eyes. "Still, I'm lucky to love people foolish enough to love me back, after everything."

Vegeta studied him. Bat ears. Tough, grooved skin. A being that had, over eons, adapted to an environment completely unlike this one. An alien. Still, he'd adopted this planet, its language, its people. He'd been granted the same gentle heart it seemed Earth forced on all its wards. Vegeta had been offered the same thing, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it, at least not in one piece. He wasn't sure he was ready. After all, whatever blood was on Piccolo's hands could never compare to Vegeta's.

He always had to have first place, didn't he.

One of the big doors opened a bit and Bulma took a few tentative steps out before coming to hand Piccolo the device, now in one solid piece. He sat up, accepting it with both hands.

"See? No time at all."

Piccolo thanked her. She smiled widely and shot Vegeta a glance, before slinking back into her lab. He gave the lab doors a sideways look.

Piccolo stood, placing the little ceramic cup back on the table.

"I suppose that means I should go." He said, adding, in a low voice, "You'll handle this. You're a survivor. I've seen it."

Then, after consideration, "Never ask me to do that for you again."

He swept out of the room.

Under his breath, nearly inaudible, Vegeta muttered a thank you.

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when it was canon that saiyans have really strong senses of smell and we all just forgot about it?  
> Vegeta is a pest and everyone knows it. We still love him though. sometimes.  
> Krillin returns soon.
> 
> Clams secretly smiling at clam jokes.


	6. Overkill.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no rhyme or reason to how you'll punish yourself.
> 
> You really need a win, buddy.

The moment his eyes opened, Krillin instinctively checked his phone. 7:14 AM. Decent. Of course he hadn't managed to drift off until after 2, but at least he felt a little less like death than usual, and the regular restless dreams hadn't jarred him awake. He let his eyes close again, beckoning the last images of the dream he'd woke from back into his mind. Someone had been talking to him, someone he'd seen not too long ago. Who was that?  
  
Vegeta.  
  
Shit.  
  
He rolled out of bed, shuffling into some clothes and towards the shower.  
  
It seemed that the more tried to think of something else and let the dream dissolve into the ether, the more it fought him, more details resolving themselves. It was Vegeta. It was his voice. But the way he'd spoken was different. He'd been soft and even in an entirely un-Vegeta way, almost, maybe, comforting?  
  
_That's pretty pathetic, Krillin._  
  
_I know._  
  
He was getting a little sick of this.  
  
Krillin cranked the water back from cold to off, threw on some clothes, and headed into the living room. Puar was nowhere to be seen this morning, which probably meant they were sleeping next to Yamcha, which meant Yamcha was home for once. Home from somewhere. Whatever. There were chores to be done and other, non-Yamcha, non-dream-related things to worry about.  
  
Like who it was that went to bed without cleaning up all their beer cans. Jesus. He supposed he shouldn't really be surprised at this point, he'd lived here since he was _thirteen_ hadn't he? It would be weirder to wake up and find out no one had made a huge fucking mess for him clean up. It was cozy. Like a warm hug made of garbage. Krillin had been missing cozy.  
  
Cozy.  
  
Cozy like his dream had been. Cozy like having someone who'd miss you while they were gone. Cozy like someone who'll look you in the eyes and speak to you softly, and not in that pitying, patronizing way he could always feel under the friendliness. It wasn't their fault, though. Not their fault he was a mess. That he couldn't protect himself, or anyone else. That he wasn't worth talking to. That he wasn't worth the effort to _come home and visit, for fucks sake, you're my best friend and you couldn't even warn me before you ran off to the other end of the universe? Let me know you're alive?_  
  
_Of course not, Krillin. Don't you know what_ obsolete means?  
  
It suddenly occurred to him that he'd stopped cleaning. He decided it was time for coffee.

 

-  
  
Krillin set about taking out the mug, the cheap coffee grounds, moving slowly and deliberately. Meditative and calm. Like every morning before. Taking the pot out of the sink and washing it thoroughly before fishing the hardworking beige coffee maker out of a cupboard. The one that could’ve been high quality a decade or so ago, that he'd bought at some junk sale when the last one had been beyond repair. Coffee grounds. Water. Pot. Power.  
  
Nothing.

 

_Power._

 

Nothing.

 

No light, no heat.

 

It took about all his will not to just sit his ass down on the hardwood and wait for death.

 

Instead he took one long, shaky breath, willing his muscles to relax and closing his eyes. No one would be up until ten at least. That gave him _some_ time. Not enough to teach himself how to identify and repair whatever the problem was, of course. And going out to buy a new one was out of the question, they’d notice and ask about it and he’d disappointed enough people lately. But he had to fix this. He had to make this up.

 

Only one option left.

 

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and lifted his phone.

 

“Hi, Bulma, hope you’re not busy,” he squeaked out.

 

“I’m always busy,” came the voice on the other end, “What’s up?”

 

-

 

_This is exactly what you deserve._

 

 _Yeah,_ replied Krillin _it is._

 

The dampness on the Briefs’ lawn was starting to soak through his shoes as he walked around to the main entrance. Dropping out of the sky onto the walkway out front would have drawn attention. He shifted the weight of the water-damaged cardboard box onto one arm, took a breath and pressed the buzzer. A few moments passed, then there was a click and green light and he gingerly pushed through the glass doors, into the foyer.

 

It’d been a good while since Krillin had set foot in Capsule Corp. They’d remodeled again. Of course, this was only to be expected of a family of eccentrics with cash to throw around. It was a little weird to think that someone could’ve grown up in a place like this, even Bulma. Hell, he’d probably spent more time in the compound than he’d spent in all his time living at Orin temple and it still felt like more like walking into an office than a home. All clean, sharp lines and new armchairs and hand sanitizer. Maybe that explained Bulma. Why she was was always on the move, never satisfied, never afraid. It’s hard to settle when you’ve had every luxury but a well-worn seat to settle into.

 

This train of thought was interrupted by one of the foyer elevators chiming, signaling the arrival of the heiress herself. She was dressed head to toe in sweats that somehow managed to look expensive despite the bed-headed perm and indelible breakfast crumbs, and she’d done the bare minimum with makeup. Her eyebags were still noticeable.

 

“Hey!” She gave him her usual grin. “You look like shit.”

 

He offered a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, you too.”

 

“This it?”

 

He set the box on the floor and pulled out the stained hunk of plastic. Bulma pulled a face.

 

“Oh. You sure want me to fix this?”

 

“Yeah… yeah I am,” He said, unconvincingly.

 

She cocked her head to one side.

 

“I can give you a new one, you know. God knows we have enough already.”

 

There was a tinge of concern in her voice stung him a little.

 

“It-it’s fine. I don’t need it.”

 

A crease formed between her eyebrows for a moment, then relaxed.

 

“Sure. So what’s wrong with it exactly?”

 

She went through a few questions, most of which Krillin couldn’t answer and was sure she didn’t really need answered. He mostly listened to what she was saying about heating components, but movement at the edge of his senses distracted him. He’d been keeping a bead on Vegeta since before he’d even reached the compound. Mostly out of paranoia. He certainly wasn’t about to go out of his way to say hello to a guest, especially not _this_ one after how their last meeting had gone. Unless he was. Unless he was going to come confront him about turning into a huge pathetic geek and rambling all night about nothing and _the hand thing oh shit, shit shit shit--_

 

Obviously he wasn’t. But the hypothetical was enough to get Krillin’s heart pounding again. He _was_ moving in their direction. But it wasn’t like he was coming _here._ Obviously. If he had any sense at all he would pretend Krillin didn’t exist today. Or maybe forever.

 

With every corner Vegeta’s little radar blip rounded a little hope grew up that he’d just found whatever room he was looking for and he would stop moving and, with every next corner, was subsequently destroyed. He was getting close. There was no way he was _actually_ coming for him was there?

 

Krillin.

 

“ _Krillin._ Hello? You totally spaced out there, is something wrong?” Bulma was looking more and more concerned.

 

“N-- Yeah, no, it’s nothing. Yeah! What were you saying?”

 

She gave him a look that, had the circumstances been less dire, probably would have shattered him. A steady stream of stress hormones had been keeping him from passing out from exhaustion since whenever his last solid sleep had been, and it was going to keep him from having a breakdown while the one person he’d made the biggest embarrassment of himself in front of in good long while was closing in.

 

“Nevermind. It shouldn’t take me too long to figure out what’s up. If I’m missing a part or something you might have to wait an hour or two but I _really_ doubt it, you wouldn’t believe how much crap I’ve got lying around right now. I’ve been trying to splice together something a little like that _scouter_ thing in my spare time and it’s been a real pain in the ass, I can show--”

 

She was interrupted by the sound of the double doors on the far end of the foyer being flung open. Krillin felt his heart hit his stomach and for a moment he thought he’d faint.

 

There, framed between the doors, still dressed in Capsule-branded workout gear and glistening with sweat was Vegeta, in all his perfect, life-ruining glory.

 

He looked rather shocked to see Krillin, actually.

 

Oh.

 

Originally, Krillin had been planning to hide his presence once he arrived, but had decided that if he was discovered it might raise some questions. So then he’d decided to keep his ki high enough for him to be noticed and, of course, avoided.

 

Except that had assumed Vegeta knew who he was.

 

Developing ki sense so soon after discovering it is an impressive feat, even if you _are_ some kind of genetically superior alien prince of a dead civilization. Honing the ability to the point of being able to identify someone from energy alone is another thing entirely. Krillin had had years. Vegeta had had _year._ Anyone with half a brain and plenty of undirected aggression to act on would have come to investigate a sudden superhuman energy source in their own home.

 

Nice going, Krillin.

 

A huge smile spread across Bulma’s face. Vegeta in turn gave her the look of a stray dog facing down animal control.

 

“Hey! Done training already?”

 

He opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it, then opened it again.

 

“I… started early.”

 

“Well good thing! You could’ve missed our _visitor!”_

 

His eyes flicked back to their “visitor”, who looked down at his damp shoes.

 

Sensing their delightful conversation was at an end and rolling her eyes, Bulma turned back to Krillin.

 

“ _Anyways._ Let me take this back to my workshop and I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime you and _Sweaty_ over there can get some breakfast. We just got new coffee machines in all the kitchens. You can get yourself some _real_ caffeine.”

 

Krillin straightened up.

 

“Shou-- Ah, _shouldn’t I come with you?_ ”

 

She shifted the machine in her arms and put a hand on her hip.

 

“Since when are you allowed in my lab? You know where everything is, go hang out somewhere, I won’t take that long.”

 

He stuttered at her but she was already heading back to the elevators. She waved him away.

 

“Bring me something _fun_ next time and maybe I’ll let you in.”

 

Between the closing doors she smiled a big, awful smile that Krillin wasn’t sure was aimed at him.

 

He turned back towards the double doors, saw Vegeta, and jumped a little. Vegeta didn't look much happier. Oddly enough there wasn’t so much of the disgust he’d been imagining as there was horror. Not necessarily _better_ but certainly not worse.

 

There was a long silence while he tried to avoid thinking about how much skin Vegeta was showing in favor of some magic combination of words that could make this interaction less excruciating.

 

“H… _Hi.”_

 

Smooth.

 

Vegeta continued to stare at him like a deer in headlights for half a second, then returned a slightly too-loud “ _HI_ ”.

 

Oh god. This _was_ worse wasn’t it. He’d gotten too weird last time and now he’d completely pushed him past the point of secondhand embarrassment, right into revulsion. Shit. _Shit._ Some sad little part of him rallied that maybe if he acted normal and distant enough this time maybe, _maybe,_ Vegeta would forget about The Pinball Incident. He really had no other cards to play except, perhaps, to run away as fast as he could, find some remote island to live on, and vow never to speak again. But then he’d never get his coffee maker back. Only one thing to do then.

 

“Do you… do you wanna go to the kitchen?”

 

“YES.”

 

Vegeta remained where he was.

 

“Oh… kay. Let’s-- I’ll--” He resolved to shut his mouth and start moving his legs. Vegeta followed his lead.

 

-

 

Krillin found his way to the front kitchen without too much difficulty, though the redecoration was a little disorienting. He took off his oversized jacket and hung it over the back of a chair at the counter automatically, finding the stainless steel hulk, which he could only assume was for coffee, next to the fridge.

 

Manners.

 

“Dr-drinks?” he managed, gesturing vaguely in that direction.

 

Vegeta made a strange face, then sat at the counter, leaving one seat between himself and the jacket.

 

“Yeah.”

 

It took a bit of opening and closing of cabinets for Krillin to find anything appropriate for coffee, trying not to take too long while simultaneously trying not to seem too panicked running back and forth. At last, he found the mugs, nearly dropping them taking them down from a shelf above his head. Very good. Very normal. He nearly dropped them a second time when he turned back to the machine and realized it had a touchscreen.

 

“Oh no.”

 

Vegeta whipped his head around. He hadn’t meant to say that outloud.

 

“Um… you wouldn’t happen to, maybe, know how to use this thing would you?”

 

He got up from the counter and, saying nothing, leaned over Krillin’s shoulder to start hitting buttons on the screen. Krillin tried to scoot out of his way a little, but there wasn’t much room to do so between him and the massive fridge. He was so close. Close enough to feel his body heat. Close enough to see a faint scar on his left shoulder, long and pale. He wondered what that one was from.

 

“There.”

 

He ripped his eyes away from Vegeta’s skin.

 

_Don’t make this weirder._

 

“Th-thanks.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Maybe all the sleep deprivation had scrambled his brain, because that had sounded a lot like an attempt at _politeness_. Albeit not a great one. Since when had Vegeta’s knowledge of human pleasantries extended past scoffs and eyerolls? He returned to his seat at the counter while Krillin puzzled over this, the machine whirring away. It had to be nothing. There was no way he’d actually forgiven him for that awful night. Vegeta wasn’t like that. He hung onto things like that. Not exactly a positive trait, but at least that meant he didn’t put on any act of respect around him. At least he could admit it when he thought someone was pitiful.

 

The monstrous coffee machine chimed at him, letting him know it had finished its job.

 

Without a word he set one mug in front of Vegeta, then settled into the chair one spot away from him. He breathed in the steam. It certainly didn’t look like the convenience store sawdust he was used to, and it lacked the satisfaction of setting up the process himself, but it looked good. He lifted the mug to his lips.

 

He barely got that first sip down. It was… _greasy,_ almost. And there was a weird, off flavor underneath. Probably something to do with coming out of the same nozzle as espresso, tea, hot cocoa, and a whole menu of artificially flavored creamers. Krillin set the mug back on the counter, a shiver running down his spine. Vegeta didn’t seem bothered, but then again he’d seen Goku eat all kinds of weird shit without a second thought. He wouldn’t’ve been surprised if it turned out neither of them had taste buds at all. He distinctly remembered an incident when he was fourteen involving a large stag beetle and a dare gone horribly, horribly wrong that he’d spent ages trying to forget.

 

The crunching. He shivered again.

 

It felt like there were more and more things he didn’t want to think about lately.

 

 _All of that’s going to come back to bite you in the ass someday, Krillin,_ came that voice reverberating through the back of skull, _The longer you wait, the more of that poison’s going to seep into you._

 

_I know it is._

 

 _You’re going to let it kill you then?_ It demanded, _Like a coward?_

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push out the thoughts like he’d done this morning, trying to pull the covers over his head. Except now there were no chores to distract him from the stupid things he wanted to say, the impulse to apologize for existing.

 

Only empty silence, in an empty kitchen.

 

“Can… Can I say something?” He heard himself ask.

 

Vegeta looked at him, apprehensive. It was too late to change his mind now, he decided. Unless he wanted to tell him the other thing.

 

“About… last time I saw you?”

 

That strange look from earlier was on his face again. His whole body was visibly tense. Krillin looked down at his lap, avoiding the intensity of his gaze.

 

“That whole night was kind of a mess wasn’t it? I’m… I’m really sorry about that, it’s my fault I just… I don’t know. It’s my fault. I don’t know.”

 

“ _What?”_

 

The softness in Vegeta’s voice caught him by surprise. When Krillin looked back up, he was half leaning out of his seat, complete bewilderment in his eyes.

 

“What-- What?”

 

The bewilderment was suddenly gone, replaced by frustration. He was now leaning further out of his seat, supported by one forearm on the countertop.

 

“What are you _apologizing for_?”

 

“Wh-- I-- N- _Nothing I guess?_ ”

 

Vegeta snapped back into his seat.

 

“ _Good._ ”

 

He took another sip of that foul liquid, staring straight ahead.

 

Krillin went back to gazing into his lap. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been apologizing for either.

 

What he did know, it seemed, was that Vegeta had no clue how awful that night had been, or why he might have been so embarrassed about it. Maybe he thought that was just how humans acted. Really, why’d he been so anxious in the first place? It wasn’t like Vegeta had had any complaints _then_. He’d seemed just as irritable as he always was when other people were involved.

 

There’d never been anything to worry about.

 

At that moment the kitchen door opened and Bulma appeared, perfect timing as usual, with that battered cardboard box in one arm. She paused for a moment, looking back and forth between the two at the counter, then stepped forward to return Krillin his property.

 

“Nothing too big, just wiring. I replaced some of the parts that were looking worse for wear too, so it should last you a good while longer. If that’s what you want, I guess.”

 

He stood to take it and thanked her. Bulma glanced in Vegeta’s direction again, but he didn’t return it.

 

“Well, I think it’s about time I got back to work,” she looked Krillin in the eyes now, “If there’s ever anything you need you know where to find me, ok?”

 

He gave her another polite smile.

 

“Thank you, Bulma.”

 

She gave him a little wave and slipped out the kitchen doors again.

 

Vegeta.

 

Krillin pulled his jacket off the back of the chair, tucked it under an arm, and shifted from one foot to another. He hadn’t taken his eyes of that spot on the far wall.

 

“Uh. Think I’m gonna go now.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

He stared at Vegeta’s back and a funny thought tumbled through his head, born from some little part of his brain that had been aching to stretch its legs for a while now. It dared him.

 

He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms tighter around the box.

 

“ _D’youwannahangoutsometime?”_

 

Shit. Vegeta perked up.

 

“I mean, like, do you wanna, uh, go to a bar or, ah, something, sometime? Not the same one. A different one.”

 

Fuck. He’d almost gotten away without sounding like a total loser. Things had been looking up. Maybe he _should’ve_ just gone out and bought a new coffee maker.

 

“Sure.”

 

This was too much.

 

Time to go, Krillin.

 

“O-Oh? Sounds good! I’ll, uh, I’ll call you!” He backed up to the door. “Bye!”

 

He slid his body out between the door and the frame without waiting for acknowledgement. Great. _Great._ He half-ran, half-walked back to the foyer, back to the front door, outside, clutching the jacket and box to his chest as tight as he could.

 

Great.

 

-

 

At long last, Krillin brought the mug -- _his_ mug -- to his lips, took a sip, and savored the familiar flavor. The couch was still surrounded with beer cans. Maybe he’d let his roommates clean up after themselves this time. No, that was definitely a lie, but he liked entertaining the thought that he wasn’t already exhausted of expressing his thoughts and desires for one day.

 

Maybe forever.

 

It was expressing thoughts and desires that had gotten him out of one ordeal and into another wasn’t it? He’d let all those little nervous thoughts build up for too long. And then, when that particular grievance had been aired, all the dopamine had short-circuited his brain and let him say _whatever all that was_ and now he had a whole other thing that he was going to have to _somehow live through, against all odds._ Eventually. Christ, he hadn’t even tried to work out a _time_ , now he was going to have to actually _call_ and figure it out. He sunk back into the couch cushions.

 

Nice going, Krillin.

 

Creaking floorboards and thumping told him that Yamcha had just woken up.

 

Krillin got to work on the beer cans.

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sick 95% of the time I was writing this chapter so if it's wonky please forgive me I was oxygen deprived and also very excited to get it published. One paragraph of Krillin looking at Vegeta was worth fighting exhaustion for.
> 
> Still not sure why it's twice as long as all the others, though.
> 
> Next time: It's definitely not a date.


	7. He doesn't know why.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A successful crashlanding.
> 
> And I want to walk around with you / And be here with you / We’re goin.

The air was crisp and cold and the sky was dark already, at least as dark as it got this deep in West City. This time, as they walked the same sidewalk, Krillin said nothing. Vegeta wasn’t sure he prefered the silence to the aimless babble from last time, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to start the small talk. So he just walked.

Krillin’s breath trailed behind him, barely thick enough to catch the orange street lamp light as he pulled his jacket tighter around him again. He was walking about twice as fast as someone of his stature should have, but whether it was because of the cold, or the nerves, or just because he was used to having to keep up, Vegeta couldn’t tell.

Personally, Vegeta was glad to get wherever they were going fast. He wanted tonight and all of its associated emotions behind him.

In particular, the disgust he felt when the two of them came face to face with a swarm of noisy drunks.

“Huh,” Krillin attempted good humor, though he was clearly just as dismayed. “Popular place tonight I guess.”

Receiving no other suggestion, he began to squeeze through the party. They hardly noticed him. Vegeta sighed and shoved through after him, scattering many of the loiterers. He put a hand on Krillin’s back and guided him to the door, ignoring the angry muttering behind them.

“Oh, uh. Thanks.”

He looked away pointedly.

Definitely not the same bar as last time. There was a lot more bar to this one, and it was full to the ribs. Krillin let him elbow his way in, though most people were giving him a wide berth to begin with. At least the earthlings had that much sense. There wasn’t much space left to sit up front but Vegeta’s presence earned them a spot to lean once they got their drinks.

The deafening whitenoise of the bar only made the silence deeper. Exactly the torture he’d been anticipating tonight. He looked out of the corner of his eye at Krillin clasping his hands together, drumming his fingers on his knuckles absently while he thought with that puppy-ish, forlorn look on his face. It was cute.

Krillin finally raised his voice to speak, sounding sheepish.

“Hey, uh, sorry. I probably could have picked somewhere quieter, huh.”

Vegeta huffed into his drink.

“S’fine.”

“Mm. Not great for conversation, though.”

He snorted.

“Since when do we have conversations?”

Krillin gave a surprised chuckle. Vegeta narrowed his eyes at him indignantly.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just think that’s the first full sentence you’ve said to me since you tried to kill me.”

Well shit, he wasn’t wrong, was he? Vegeta fumbled for a comeback.

“I talk when I want to.”

Krillin laughed again, putting a hand to his mouth like he was trying to keep it in. That was cute too. 

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just so weird? I guess I’ve spent a lot of time talking at you the last few months, I haven’t really been letting you get a word in have I?”

“I’d rather listen to you talk.” He quickly corrected himself, “--RATHER than engage in pleasantries in some dump.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that, isn’t it?”

All Vegeta managed to put together was an insulted grunt before Krillin started looking embarrassed again.

“I mean I like that you’re talking! I’m-- I’m glad I don’t have to listen to myself talk anymore! Oh my god I’m still doing it, sorry!”

More apologies. That was getting on his nerves a little.

“Well, if it shuts you up then I suppose--”

He was interrupted by loud laughter just over his shoulder and someone stumbled, catching themselves with one fist balled in his jacket, nearly knocking him over in the process. Vegeta whipped around, every muscle tense. The big, furry whatever-it-was looked down from about a foot above him and mumbled an insincere apology before turning back to its friends. The hairs on the back of Vegeta’s neck were standing. Someone would regret this. He began to push off from the counter but a hand grabbed his wrist and now he was in full fight mode, ripping his hand away, whoever it was was going to pay and--

Krillin was staring back at him, looking nervous. 

Vegeta relaxed his balled fists, drifting back toward the counter. He tried to ignore the hint of fear in his expression. Krillin kept his hand close to his chest for a moment, as if protecting it, then brought it to the back of his neck. 

“Hey, um… you wanna get out of here?”

It was like a freezing stone dropped into Vegeta’s stomach. It had only just started going well and already he’d wrecked it. Destroyed like he destroyed every precious thing. Like it was his job. He looked to the door, afraid to look Krillin in the eyes.

“I… Yeah. Let’s go--”

“There’s another place not too far from here I know. Not as nice but, hey, it probably won’t be crowded?”

The soft little smile on Krillin’s face hit him, and the stone melted away like nothing.

-

Having pavement moving under his feet again felt good. The mindless motion eased his nerves. The open air was better too, didn’t suffocate his senses. Krillin was watching the ground. Maybe Vegeta did like this better, seeing him when they weren’t staring at each other, waiting for someone to talk. When he wasn’t so focused on saying the right thing, on appearances. It was better than having to watching him apologize, after all. 

“Up there,” said Krillin, nodding at a neon-soaked stretch of windows, “That’s the one.” Then, frowning, “Oh. Maybe not that one.”

Vegeta followed his eyes to the front door and, almost instantly, a human shoved out, dragging a second behind by the shirt. He felt that adrenaline flowing back into him as the brawl spilled into the street. Some basal part of his brain reminded him how long it had been since he’d had a real fight, since he’d broken something alive and he could feel his muscles tense by themselves.

There was a gentle touch on his shoulder and he looked back to Krillin.

“Hey, uh, maybe tonight’s not the night for drinks. Uh… I can find us somewhere else. Okay?”

He hesitantly held onto his sleeve, leading him back up the block. Vegeta’s muscles ached as the sound of fists on flesh faded away behind him. 

-

Most of the adrenaline had worn off and Vegeta was starting to feel the cool night through his jacket. Krillin had been shivering rather obviously for a while now, and watching him pull his scarf tighter for the hundredth time wasn’t helping his own situation. Bulma’d been so specific about what he was wearing out. Skinny jeans and leather weren’t exactly insulating. He watched Krillin pull his jacket closer again and, for just a moment, lingered on the thought of wrapping his arms around him to warm up. He quickly pushed the image from his mind when the actual Krillin made eye contact.

“Hey, so, there’s a cafe that way, I was thinking we could get something hot. If, uh, that sounds good to you.”

Something hot was sounding really good right now. The warm, scented air of the cafe seemed to soak into Vegeta’s bones, the quiet murmur of the near-empty shop neutralizing the evening’s stress. 

“I can order for us. What do you want?”

Vegeta plopped into a big squishy yellow armchair, one of a pair around a little coffee table off in the corner. 

“Whatever.”

He let himself melt into the crevices of the thing, thankful there were hardly any other customers to see him close his eyes and lean back his head. He could almost pretend he wasn’t a single alien alone in the middle of a huge Earth city full of Earth people whose lives he’d almost ended at one point. The oppressive swarming of tiny lives around him floated away, carried on a river of coffee roast air, and then he was floating away too on the daisy-yellow cushions.

“Might be a while.”

Vegeta snapped upright again, kicking the heavy coffee table up a little so it made an awful sound on the tile. Krillin winced. They got some looks from the few patrons, to whom he apologized.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh. Uh.”

Vegeta pretended to be interested in the magazines he’d knocked to the floor. Krillin occupied himself with his scarf.

“We managed to sit down.”

Krillin looked up.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess we did, didn’t we?”

“Mm.”

He folded the scarf across his lap, picking off a little ball of fluff.

“So, uh, you want to walk around after this? There’s a park a block over. We can warm up a little first, if you want.”

Vegeta snorted. 

“After we went through all that trouble finding this place?”

“Oh, uh. We don’t have to. If you don’t want to. I mean.”

Great job, asshole.

“No, I-- I was… joking...” The words fell out of his mouth with uncertainty. “We can keep walking if you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He cringed imperceptibly. It went silent again for a long time.

The barista called out an order, though it was hardly necessary. Vegeta stood sharply, kicking the coffee table a little again.

“I’ll get it.”

He grabbed the two coffees, not particularly concerned with thank-yous, stubbed his toe on a chair leg, realized he’d stumbled in front of one of the two other occupied tables in the place, and finally shoved one of the paper cups into Krillin’s hands.

“Let’s go.”

“Oh, we don’t have to if you don’t want--”

“No, I do,” He blurted, “I do want to. Let’s go.”

Vegeta marched out the door, forcing Krillin to follow him. The two crossed the streets in silence, painful again. 

The West City park was surprisingly well populated for this time of night. Under orangey street lamps and on Briefs family-dedicated benches people were huddled together. There was a certain glow about the place. Krillin held his hot coffee close to himself. A look of guilt spread over his face that felt like an icy needle in Vegeta’s chest.

“Hey, I’m… I’m sorry about this. Sorry about… everything I guess.” There was a quaver of unsureness in his voice. “I should’ve just--”

“Enough.” Vegeta’s voice was firm, but he couldn’t bring himself to put any harshness into it. He could hardly look Krillin in the eye. Shame washed over him in waves. He took a breath. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing that’s happened tonight has been your fault and you can stop fucking acting like it. If you’re to blame for any of this you could’ve avoided it by not giving me your pity in the first place.”

Krillin was stunned. He fumbled for words for a moment, like he was trying to ask twelve things at once. At last he was able to speak again, but all that came out was “Pity?”

“Yes, pity! Don’t treat me like an idiot, I know how you and your friends feel about me. I was a threat and now I’m stuck on this godforsaken planet with you lot so you think you have to act like my friend and babysit me for some fucking reason. Well you don’t. I just wish you’d all admit that you hate me to my face instead of treating me like a child.”

“I don’t hate you.”

His voice was so soft. It knocked the breath out of Vegeta’s lungs. Krillin looked up at him with big dark eyes, illuminated by the light of the park lamps filtering through yellowing leaves. He felt lost in those eyes.

“I don’t hate you either.”

A cold breeze stirred the dry leaves on the pavement, and the sound of hushed words behind him brought him back. It occurred to him now that there were a lot of people holding hands in this park. Krillin looked away. The dim light made it hard to tell, but his face seemed pink. 

Vegeta composed himself, his face hardened again. “We should go home.”

Krillin nodded at him without looking.

“Let’s get out of here.”

-

The walk home was quiet, but not so deafening. They exchanged meaningless words. It felt loose. Pleasant. At last the front gate of Capsule Corp came into view and they stopped, the night air frigid and undisturbed, not sure what to say next.

At last Krillin spoke, giving him a goodbye that felt inadequate and sterile to both of them. He began to walk away, and Vegeta was struck with the realization that he did not want him to go, but he could barely stand raising his voice above a whisper.

“Krillin,” He hoped for a moment that he wouldn’t hear him but he was already turning around, “Let’s… let’s do this again sometime.”

Krillin’s eyes were wide for a moment, then he smiled softly.

“Sure.”

A breeze stirred dry leaves around his feet and the orange street lights cast everything monochrome, like a sepia photograph. He gave him a last goodnight, then turned to walk down the deserted street. Vegeta watched him until he disappeared into the dark. The compound gate clunked finally behind him. He crawled into a warm bed on planet where he was less alone than he had ever been, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHASE ONE COMPLETE. Sorry for the long wait I had a rough month. Only being able to work on writing about half an hour a day does not make for good work ethic, surprisingly.
> 
> Next time: we get some tasty lore.


End file.
